In Idle Hands
by jennamajig
Summary: Things are not always what they appear. Team fic with Beckett and a bit of Sheppard and Beckett whumping. WIP. Updated 11.08.
1. Chapter 1

**In Idle Hands 1?**  
by Jennamajig

* * *

SUMMARY: Things are not always what they appear. Team fic + Beckett with a little time for everyone, eventually.

SEASON/SPOILERS: Poisoning the Well, set in the first half of Season One.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, I do not write WIPs, usually. But these four pages of fic have been sitting on the hard drive forever as my attempt to write something a bit meatier, with more plot, and to try and involve Teyla and Ford since I tend to forget about them, but still love 'em. I'm posting to see if anyone thinks it has potential, b/c frankly, I need a little kick in the behind if it does so my muse will finish the damn thing. So if you like, feel free to badger :).

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Stargate: Atlantis or anything associated with it. I'm simply borrowing, but I promise to return all in one piece. Eventually.

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"Incoming wormhole! It's Lt. Ford's IDC."

There was no mistaking the sounds of gunfire. SGA-1 was early. And early was never a good sign.

"Atlantis?" Ford's voice came through on the radio. "Warning - we're coming in hot!"

The fact that Sheppard wasn't on the radio was another not-so-good sign. Elizabeth Weir immediately took action. "Lower the shield. And get a medical team to the gate room." While Ford hadn't indicated injury, instinct told her she needed to be prepared.

The shield lowered, sending a spray of bullets into the control room and airmen diving for cover. Ford tumbled through the gate, followed closely by Teyla and McKay. Thankfully aside from a few cuts and bruises, the three appeared unharmed. But that wasn't her immediate concern.

"Raise the shield!" Ford called out.

"Where's the Major?" She frowned - was she missing someone else? "And Beckett?"

Ford shook his head. "They're gone. Captured."

Twelve Hours Earlier

"Again, Major, I don't really liked being volunteered without my permission."

"You weren't volunteered, doc. Weir practically ordered you through the gate."

"Aye. At your suggestion."

"Yeah, well, the worst part is over. You're through the gate. And they are friendly, Carson, so calm down. All you have to do is take a look at their president, fix him up, and I'll personally escort you back. Scout's honor."

Beckett still looked uneasy but kept walking.

"We all know what happened the last time you volunteered my services," Carson muttered quietly. There was no mistaking the sadness and guilt in his voice. Although he suspected the man hadn't intended for John to hear the statement, he had and wasn't sure how to respond. They'd been on eggshells around Beckett concerning the entire Hoff situation since it happened. And after giving his part of the story at the briefing with Weir, Carson hadn't been willing to discuss the matter further. And he hadn't gone through the gate since, content to sit with his charts and microscope. John simply settled for silence and the two walked on toward the village.

The recent mission was going up without a hitch. They'd come through the gate and hit a small town not unlike the American Midwest of the earlier part of the 1900s. A farming community, the townsfolk seemed quite thrilled at the visitors, especially when they seemed to possess higher forms of technology. Even better, they knew English (Rodney seemed extremely pleased with that fact) and negotiations started immediately for grain in exchange for help updating their farming equipment.

But it was when McKay had made an offhand remark about something medical, that the locals grew even more excited. Excitement grew when Teyla addressed Rodney as Dr. McKay and one young woman, who introduced herself as Catia but refused to say nothing more, practically dragged Rodney with her and Sheppard soon found himself, along with the rest of his team, escorted to what passed for a car on this planet and driven thirty miles to the nearest "city," which despite it's classification by the locals wasn't what John would have called a city. Still it had developing buildings and structures, with a good amount of people milling about.

It was like pulling teeth, but after a conversation that could have easily been more awkward then a teenager's first date, Sheppard managed to find out that Catiaâ™s father was head of the city. And her father was apparently quite ill.

"You see, I'm not that kind of doctor," McKay had tried to explain but security still pushed the man up a flight of stairs. Sheppard followed, with Teyla and Ford on his heels, surprised that no one tried to hold him back. It was a bit surreal, almost. In his experience, people were never this friendly, and yet so mysterious.

Sheppard watched as Rodney was not-so-gently shoved in the direction of a door at the end of a long hallway. It opened to admit the man, and slammed shut before anyone else had a chance to react to it.

"Sir?" Ford had piped up. "I don't like this."

"You're not the only one." He hoped the basic medical training Beckett required all personal traveling off world to complete would be enough to placate these people they still knew so little about.

A moment later the door opened and McKay was shoved out of it.

"Well?"

"He's, uh, definitely sick."

"Wow. How long did it take you to figure that one out?"

"Well, excuse me, Major, but last I checked I had a Ph.D. in physics which, may I point out, is in no relation to medicine. They, however, are not listening and not taking no for an answer. I mentioned bringing Carson-"

"McKay, why did you have to go and do that? We know squat about these people and you want me to go back and bring someone else through the gate?"

"Squat? This coming from the man that was quick to volunteer Beckett's services on Hoff?"

"We knew more about the Hoffans. Potential against the Wraith and all."

"Lot of good it did us. Frankly, I consider food just as important. No food, no us, no chance of -"

"I get your point, McKay." He sighed. "So medical help gets us grain?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

John ignored him. "Ford, you're in charge. I'm high tailing it back to the gate."

"Wait. Why you? You have the gun." McKay was shifting his weight from foot to foot, nervous.

John rolled his eyes. "Ford has a gun. Teyla has a gun. Even you have a gun. Although, I'm beginning to question my judgment on that one."

McKay reached down to his side, where John knew the man kept his gun. "Oh, right."

"They seem pretty friendly. See what else you can find out. Besides, since I was the one to drag Beckett through the gate last time, I figure it's up to me to keep up tradition." He turned. "Now play nice."

Finally he and Beckett set foot on the village, where another car picked them to escort them to the city. Beckett, for his part, simply clutched his supplies and remained silent. As taller buildings came into view, Sheppard felt an uneasy feeling grip his stomach. He glanced towards Carson again, but the the car had stopped and Carson was chatting with Catia, who'd came out to greet him. Like she had done with McKay hours ago, she latched into Beckett's hand and proceded to drag him into the building. John followed behind.

When he caught up, he found Carson gone and his team sitting in the hallway. He frowned.

"Carson's in there," McKay indicted, jerking his head towards the room at the end of the hall.

Still, Sheppard frowned. Something was different.

"They will not permit us to leave," Teyla explained. Ford nudged his head toward a couple of men near the "president's" door. Clad in brown, the two held impressive weapons, unlike any gun he'd ever seen on Earth.

"No higher technology, my ass," he muttered.

Present

There was a distinct tone of worry in the briefing room as Ford recounted what was quickly equaling an ill-fated mission.

"Hell broke loose, basically."

Elizabeth sighed. "It was a simple trade agreement, Lieutenant. I thought we'd established they were friendly. I never would have sent Dr. Beckett through if they weren't."

"They were," Ford agreed.

Elizabeth leaned forward on the table. "Then what happened to change their minds?"

--


	2. Chapter 2

**In Idle Hands 2?**  
by Jennamajig

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Eleven Hours Earlier

Carson had to admit, it seemed pretty straight forward. Not every situation was Hoff, he knew, but found it harder to convince himself of that fact. It was easier just to ignore it. He'd never face Hoff, or another Hoff, if he never left Atlantis. It had seemed like the perfect plan.

Of course, he should have known Major Sheppard wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd come back through the gate, asking for Carson's services. Carson listened, and then pointed out that any doctor could accompany him, and he had a few to choose from. But, oh no, Carson had been through the gate already. Knew what to expect.

Sure, knew what to expect. He knew to expect the worst and nothing  
else.

Still, when he and Sheppard reached the city he found himself relaxing, and a bit of his harbored guilt disappearing. He couldn't let a previous experience get in the way of his professional duty he figured, and they'd be plenty of time to lament over a cup of tea later.

A woman greeted them and before he knew it, had latched onto his arm and practically ripped it out of its socket as she dragged him into a building and up a series of steps. He barely had a glance toward Rodney, Ford, and Teyla before a door opened and he was deposited inside. He heard the door shut heavily behind him.

Within a couple of seconds, he could tell that whoever was in this room, they weren't in tip top shape. One didn't need a doctor's sense to smell the air of sickness in the room, but if one was lucky enough to have such a sense, as he did, they could also tell it wasn't good.

Wasn't good at all.

He approached the bed, his old battered, traditional medical bag in hand. He laughed at the item when his mother presented it to him the day he officially earned his medical degree, but he still kept it and found it came in handy far more often than he'd like. It seemed to blend into the current setting, taking Carson back a few years, almost erasing the evolution of the last fifty years of modern medicine.

No one in the room spoke, so Carson took that as his cue. He set his bag down on the edge of the bed and took a look at the man in it.

His appeared to be in his forties, although massive illness had aged his face beyond its years. His skin was so pale that it seemed to blend in with the white sheet he laid on. He lifted a hand and it shook slightly.

Beckett took in these details and catalogued them as he began his examination. He was a doctor. This wasn't Hoff, this wasn't an experimental drug gone wrong, leaving him and medical technology helpless. An illness he could handle, after all he'd spent years studying diseases and their cases and cures.

No problem.

It was when he pulled back the blanket that he discovered he was wrong.

--

Sheppard eyed the door. He'd tried to head back down the stairs when another two armed men in brown blocked his path and set him backtracking. With their weapons raised, his gun paled in comparison. He hadn't the slightest idea what such an object was capable of, but he wasn't about to be stupid enough to find out.

He joined Ford, Teyla, and McKay on the floor.

"When did they-"

"When Teyla started down the stairs," Ford answered. "Came out of no where. I'm beginning to think this whole lack of technology is a lie."

"Really?" McKay started. "What tipped you off? The big giant men or the big giant guns?"

"Rodney," Sheppard warned.

"They are close in appearance to a Wraith's weapon," Teyla put in.

"A stunner?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful. If the Wraith are anything like the G'ould, then they are probably always developing new technology. There is no telling what it could do. It could kill us all." McKay slumped back against the wall.

Teyla shook her head. "The Wraith have no use for such a thing. They require their prey to remain alive."

"For feeding," Sheppard agreed.

"Now, that's just wonderful," Ford said, sarcasm in his tone.

"Then the real question is," Sheppard mused out loud, "why do they have Wraith technology and how did they get their hands on it?"

--

Carson knew the minute he saw the injury, there was nothing he could do. He recognized a product of the Wraith when he saw it and this one was beyond hope.

He let the blanket fall. The woman who'd dragged him into the room stepped forward.

"You can fix him?" she questioned. "Dr. McKay said your planet has medicines. Antibiotics," she carefully sounded out the word as if she was saying it was first time, "he called them."

"Aye." Carson sighed. "But I'm afraid they won't help."

"Why? He is sick. I was told they help when one is sick."

He shook his head. "This isn't simply sick, I'm afraid. Your..." He fished for a name.

"Loren. His is our leader. Our president," she told him.

"Loren," Carson repeated and turned to look at the man. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do."

Loren, for his part, closed his eyes. The woman shook her head.

"No," she whispered.

Carson hated this part of his job. No matter how many times you practiced and role played, giving bad news was still unpleasant and still necessary. He didn't believe in lying to anyone about such a thing, as it only brought even more heartache down the line. Life taught him that, and being in Atlantis only made this part of his job happen more often.

"I'm sorry," he simply said.

But she was still shaking her head and she turned to the bedside table, opening a draw and brandishing an item.

"They will come," she said. "He just needs more of this."

Carson realized the item in her hand was a vial. He frowned. "More of what?"

Surprisingly, she handed it over to him. "This. Perhaps your planet has some. Like you have antibiotics." She looked hopeful.

The vial was nearly empty, but Carson recognized the reddish color from his recent experience on Hoff and their and his continuing research and recent Wraith autopsy. He couldn't be positive without running a few labs tests and comparing them to the small sample they still had on hand.

Wraith enzyme; the chemical they released into their victims the moment before the Wraith started draining life from them. Some form of it. Maybe even some form the supposed 'miracle' drug still being distributed on Hoff, if the Wraith hadn't already destroyed them all once word leaked into the galaxy. Carson still didn't know much about the chemical, only that for some reason it appeared to make the human body temporarily stronger and easier to drain. It appeared to break down in the human body rather quickly after death, but during life, he could only speculate.

It could be that it wasn't simply a Wraith injury killing him.

"How long has he been taking this?" he asked.

The woman frowned. "For nearly two years. We all have. It is a gift from the gods."

He shook his head. "No, it's not. You all take this?"

She nodded. "Yes. Loren was low and went to meet with the gods yesterday. He came back with a new supply and a few hours later, collapsed. He has no idea how he received his injury."

"Right." Carson didn't believe it for a second. "When's the last time he took this?"

"Last night," she answered. "He has been sick and not able to keep much down. Not even that."

"Lovely," Carson muttered. He started to put two and two together. The enzyme, he supposed, acted like a drug, stimulating the body. Therefore, when one stop taking it, well, he could surmise what the consequences would be. "It's killing him."

"You're lying," she hissed.

"I'm not," Carson insisted. "This enzyme, this," he held up the almost empty vial, "medicine, is making him sick."

"It makes us stronger. Makes him stronger." She wasn't backing down.

"Yes, it makes you stronger. Temporarily. Strong enough for a Wraith to feed on you. Once they do and you don't get anymore of it, it breaks down. It kills you."

She shook her head. "They will bring us more. He won't die."

Carson realized what she had just revealed. "They? Who are they?"

"The gods," she answered. "They protect our planet."

"Gods," he muttered. It sounds like something out of SG1's mission logs and frequent encounters with the G'ould. Carson admitted he didn't read much of the actual missions, instead concentrating on the injures and medical records, but he knew that on many planets, the G'ould were considered gods, when they were far from it. But they were no G'ould in the Pegasus galaxy, as far as they could discern. There was a completely different threat.

"Holy crap," he breathed. "The Wraith."

"Wraith?" she repeated. "Who are they?"

She had idea, he realized, but was almost certain of his theory. There was no other way these people could get such an enzyme, especially when they were excited by the simple idea of penicillin.

"They are bad. Very bad. Not gods."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're wrong."

"I wish I was." He suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man in brown move in front of the door, a large and very modern looking weapon in his hand.

"You're wrong," she repeated and Carson knew he was, but it wasn't about the Wraith.

End Part 2.


	3. Chapter 3

**In Idle Hands 3?**  
by Jennamajig

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Present

"Elizabeth, as soon as Carson told them their president was dying, it was as if we committed treason. They must as well have been chasing us with pitchforks."

"You said they had stunners," Elizabeth countered.

"Okay, very big versions of a Wraith pitchfork. Either way, it doesn't really matter, because they were monumentally pissed off." Rodney started drumming the fingers of his right hand on the tabletop.

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm not getting the whole story here. Why couldn't Carson help?"

"That's just it. We don't know," Ford admitted. "Like I said, hell just broke loose. For people without any modern technology, they sure produced weapons and men pretty quickly."

"Which makes no sense, considering they didn't even know what penicillin was!" McMay's fingers picked up place on the briefing table.

"Rodney," Elizabeth warned, but Rodney's fingers continued to move. She figured that if he weren't already sitting down, he'd probably be pacing back and forth. McKay didn't do still very well, unless he was unconscious.

"They were not like any Wraith weapon I have seen," Teyla put in.

"They're no denying they've been there, though," Ford challenged.

"I agree," Teyla said, "and they are many different sectors of the Wraith."

"Developing different technology?" Elizabeth questioned.

"A Wraith's purpose is survival. I do not doubt that they would do anything for it."

"Of course they would. Living is what any organism wants to do." McKay's left hand joined his right.

"Dude," Ford warned and McKay's stared at his hands.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"What I'm getting here is bits and pieces. What happened to Major Sheppard?"

--

Ten and half hours Earlier

"He's been in there a while."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Um..."

Sheppard turned and was faced by four more men, bearing the same unknown weapon. He gripped his own firearm.

Again, not good. Oddly enough, when they managed to get back to the gate, John wondered if they would be chalking this up as another mission his team had managed to run into the Wraith, despite the fact that they'd yet to see a single one of the live-sucking creatures. Of course, that hardly mattered if they couldn't make it back to the gate at all.

"Change of plans," he told Ford. "We're grabbing Beckett and heading home."

"Past all them, sir?" Ford jerked his head toward their competition, which had now grown to eight.

"Teyla?"

"Yes?"

"Any idea what one of those things might do?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Well that's just dandy." John turned to look at McKay, who, for his part, had a tentative hand on his gun and a shaky expression.

Yep, so not good was looking like a very good summary of their current situation. They were outnumbered, which, yes, wasn't nice, but could be handled. It was the other major disadvantage of having no idea what kind of damage the enemy could inflict that really bothered him. Carson hadn't come out, but something told him whatever the doctor had done, the natives didn't like it.

The hallway seemed impossibly small.

Then it happened.

"It" consisted a series of events Sheppard would later have to think hard about to remember them and their exact order correctly. A door opened and Sheppard thought he heard Carson's unmistakable brogue, but he had no time to process it. A woman was shouting something he didn't understand, which seemed odd since this planet seemed to speak English. Men were moving and shots were fired, but they sounded like friendly fire. He yelled out to Ford, saw McKay duck and Teyla raise her gun.

The unknown weapons sounded like a mini sonic boom and when one fired, it left John's ears ringing. People were moving, but it seemed like he was watching a movie without the sound on. McKay was yelling at him. Ford had made it down the stairs. John turned towards the open door, determined to grab Beckett and go as he originally intended.

Another boom flew past his ear and he heard nothing.

--

Present

"We made it out the building. McKay managed to hotwire one of their vehicles while Teyla and I shielded him as well as we could. It was then that we realized the Major wasn't behind us. The eight men we'd originally been pinned up against became about forty. They chased us all the way to the gate." Aiden was silent a moment. "We couldn't go back alone."

Elizabeth laid her hands on the table. "You made the right decision, Lt."

"We need to go back." McKay's finger tapping had stopped, but the man was fidgeting, obviously restless. "I mean, we can't just leave Sheppard and Beckett out there."

"We have no idea what we are up against any more," Ford said simply, letting the military view play devil's advocate for a minute.

"So what? We have people. We have Wraith stunners."

"We have more than that," Teyla spoke up.

"We do?" McKay asked, brow furrowed. Elizabeth and Ford looked at her as well, each wearing their own look of puzzlement.

Teyla nodded. "We have this." With a single motion, she raised her hand and placed something on the briefing table. When she drew back, she revealed a small weapon, almost a travel-size version of the Wraith weapon the village possessed. It was not perfect, though. The barrel was slightly bent and the trigger seemed  
broken.

"How did you...?"

"A soldier dropped it and I took it while we escaped. I know it appears broken, but perhaps it could still be of use."

McKay picked it up. "Of course it can. I, um, I need-"

"Go, Rodney," Elizabeth told him and the scientist scurried out of the room. She turned to Ford. "Assemble a rescue team. We'll reconvene when we have a little more information about their technology."

---------------

End Part 3...we'll check up on Carson and John in the next part :).


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, the muse got distracted. But hoping to keep on track now :). As always, thanks for all the reviews! **

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**In Idle Hands 4?  
By Jennamajig**

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"Oh crap." 

From Carson's point of the view, things were not going well and he tried very hard to not think about the last time things hadn't gone well. When he was running around a desperately overcrowded medical ward, trying to save lives that should have never needed saving, yet didn't have a prayer of surviving.

Including Perna. He closed his eyes and willed the image of her blonde head away. Yes, it had been nothing more than a crush, an infatuation, but it had no chance to be explored. To become more as he dared hoped it just might be. He was a silly romantic, he knew, and it often got him hurt. Perna was really no different.

He told himself if he managed to survive this one, he was never going off world again. He was a bad luck charm.

Things had progressed quickly. The woman was angry and guns and men seemed to fall from the sky. Carson feared the Wraith were involved and expected them to rear their ugly heads, but only human foes emerged. The president lay dying, and Carson still couldn't help. That wouldn't change, even if someone shoved a pistol against the back of his head.

Which, of course, was exactly was happened. The vial was waived and fury was unleashed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. It was no use trying to tell them the Wraith weren't gods. No one listened and Carson didn't know the whole story. He feared he wouldn't like it at all if he. A Wraith had obviously fed on Loren -- there was no doubt about that -- but Carson wondered why. The Wraith built themselves up to these people, had gained their trust and faith. A feeding could shatter such a thing.

Or maybe not. He had no clue.

It didn't matter. He'd watched Major Sheppard fall, hit by a blast from some type of energy weapon. He called out, and turned only to meet a similar fate.

He blinked a moment, then darkness.

--

John's head felt fuzzy.

And hurt. A lot, actually. Throbbed in time to his heart beat and he floated in the darkness, not looking forward to the moment when consciousness would come.

He heard voices. Far away, but definitely voices. Sharp tones, like someone giving orders. There was a bang, like metal against metal and his head protested at the noise.

There was a groan.

For a moment, he thought he had made that sound, but that didn't feel right. He tried to concentrate on it, as the cobwebs started to drift away slowly. His head still hurt like hell, but consciousness had won out. Next stop, opening the eyes.

He pried the right one open first, happy that a ray of painful light didn't hit his pupil. In fact, no light did. It was dark.

No, not completely dark, he realized as his pupil adjusted. There was a very some amount of light. He opened the other eye.

So mostly darkness. Basement, maybe? The walls were concrete -- well, at least he thought so. He threw a hand out blindly towards one.

Hard and smooth. Concrete, all right.

There were bars; typical jail bars that made up the fourth wall of their tiny room. The smallest amount of light came through them, from an unknown spot outside the cell.

Not good.

Captured, his aching brain told him.

No shit.

There was another groan and he shifted his head. He realized he was lying down and that there was another form lying next to him. He reached his hand out and touched short hair, somewhat matted and dirty. If only he could turn and…

Success. His eyes adjusted to his new position and tried to identify the shape in front of him. It was a man, shorter than he was he calculated.

Another groan. Then:

"Major Sheppard."

The words were so soft he could barely make then out. John pushed an elbow under him and propped himself up. His head swam alarmingly a second and he pushed back the threat of nausea. Finally they settled and he looked down.

"Beckett?" he asked and the figure shifted. A hand reached out and Sheppard figured Beckett probably had the same headache he did.

"Aye." Again the reply was soft.

"Head hurt?" Another groan was his answer. "I'll take that as a yes." He managed to push himself up against the wall and sat up completely, using the wall as support. Beckett blinked owlishly at him. Or at least he thought the doctor did, the light from outside didn't actually help distinguish such features.

"What happened?" Sheppard ventured. "Things went crazy…" Did they? To be honest, he couldn't remember a damn thing. With his headache, he was surprised he remembered his own name.

"I don't know," Beckett responded and Sheppard was happy to note that he voice was louder this time. John didn't know anything about medicine, so the less the physician was injured, the better.

"I was working in my lab, I think," Beckett continued. "You came and asked me…well, to be honest, I don't remember." There was a pause. "My head hurts."

Sheppard sighed. "Mine, too. Think you can sit up? There's a wall right behind your head."

"I can try." There was some shuffling and more groaning, but Beckett managed to prop himself up and find the wall. Some he was sitting next to John. "I think I might be sick."

"Just take deep breaths. It'll fade it a minute." He heard the Scot breathing heavily and hoped his advice would work. This was a small space and he didn't relish the thought of sharing it with vomit. Finally Carson seemed to settle.

"Better?"

He saw the man nod his head and then grimace. "Yes. Where are we?"

Sheppard looked out towards the light. "I have no idea."

--

Rodney was frustrated. He and Zelenka had managed to piece together the weapon and had even fired it, but without a human trial there was no telling exactly what the gun did.

It appeared to stun, not to kill, which thankfully, was a very good thing or the Major would be toast, but the beam was structurally different.

The particles emitted differed from the normal Wraith weapon and even after staring at them, Rodney wasn't exactly sure what they were capable of besides stunning "prey." The slight variance led him to believe it did something else in addition to paralyzing the victim, but it would take more time to find out what.

Unfortunately, time was of the essence. At least he was used to it. They'd awakened a whole galaxy of Wraith and since that moment he expected them to come knocking on Atlantis' door any moment. Then he'd be expected to find some magical switch that made them disappear or something.

The life of a scientist.

"No, is different." Zelenka was off in a corner, muttering with someone about trigger switches. Rodney just stared at his computer screen.

They hadn't really known what a Wraith stunner did until one hit someone in the face – namely him. Carson did all his tests and proclaimed that he'd be fine. It was rather like a Zat weapon on Earth.

Yet, two shots and those killed.

There was no telling what the Wraith were capable of.

He sighed and hit print, grabbed the sheets as they rolled out and headed to Elizabeth's office.

--


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yes, I know it's been a while. My muse got distracted by a new fandom and a few rather insistent plot bunnies that would not go away. But this story has not been forgotten and the rest of the fic is being plotted as I post, so hopefully there should be another part up this week :).**

**All always, thank you for the reviews; they keep me going.**

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_Chapter 5_

* * *

It was hard to time how much time had passed when the little light you saw was purely artificial. That, and the simple fact that neither Sheppard nor Beckett could remember how they had gotten to their current accommodations in the first place, didn't help. 

The headaches slowly faded, but the memory loss did not. Sheppard got up the first moment the dizziness ceased enough from him to be vertical, but found no way out. The cell, as it seemed, appeared almost medieval, yet there was no lock securing the bars. But there wasn't a doubt that something was holding it in place, for the metal didn't budge.

They had no choice but to wait.

Sheppard sat through an exam by Carson, who insisted on checking the major for any hidden injuries. John offered to do the same, but Beckett gave him a small smile.

"I'm fine," he promised, shifting away when John reached out a hand. He sighed. "There's no way out, is there?"

"No." John sat back down, slumped against the wall. "The bars won't budge. I don't get it. I hate saying this, but I could sure use McKay right about now. Or some C4."

"And blow us up with it? I don't think that's such a good idea, Major."

John shrugged. "McKay could help rig it. He did manage to build an atomic bomb in the sixth grade." He paused a moment. "Come to think of it, you know a lot about chemistry and molecular biology…"

Carson just stared at him.

"I know, I know. Bad idea. But something going to find us eventually and somehow I'm thinking it won't be the welcome wagon." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling completely helpless and hating it. "A mission," he muttered. "We obviously aren't on Atlantis, so something made us go through the gate."

"Aye," Beckett agreed. "Though I don't know why that would involve me."

John mulled that over and decided the statement had some merit – Beckett had been hiding out on Atlantis since Hoff and getting him to go through the gate again would have been no easy task, that was for sure. Beckett was stubborn and John figured it had to be a scientist thing, but McKay harbored the very same trait.

But even though how they got here was important, how they could get out of here and back on Atlantis was even more important.

"Any ideas?" he asked.

Beckett gave him an odd look.

"I take that as a no, then." He looked back out at the bars. "I assume that Ford, Teyla, and McKay came along, so obviously we got separated. If we're lucky, they made it back to Atlantis."

"And if we're not lucky?" Beckett asked.

"I prefer to think we're lucky," he answered.

However, a moment later when a shadow approached their cell, Sheppard tensed, holding his breath. This could be a bad thing.

Or a very good one. John wasn't going to waste an opportunity to escape. Sure, he had no clue where he was, no way to scout out the danger, but he was used to thinking on his feet. Military training had trained him well, and his experience in Afghanistan had prepared him to handle the worst. The Wraith, of course, quickly proving themselves as the worst.

He had nothing to suggest that the Wraith were involved in his and Beckett's current situation, but somehow, just somehow, he knew they were.

"He's the one."

The door to the cell swung open and Sheppard took the chance to sprint towards the door. Before he'd even gotten three feet, he felt a surge of energy hit him, sending a shooting pain through his entire body and bringing him to his knees.

"Major Sheppard," a female voice clucked. John tried to lift his head to look at the person, but it wouldn't budge. The only view he had was of a pair of boot clad feet. "Have you not learned?" The voice laughed. "Well, I suppose that partially our fault. You just happened to get in our way."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, John thought he should know this voice, that he'd heard it before. But he continued to draw and blank and the pain still coursing through his veins didn't help.

He vaguely wondered where Beckett was, wished he turn his head back towards the corner of the cell he'd last since the doctor in.

"Dr. Beckett's the one we need." That was a different voice, John noticed, another female, another eerily familiar tone.

"I can't help you. I told you that." Beckett's voice.

"Oh, but Dr. Beckett, that's where you're wrong. You can help us after all. You and the Major here. More than we'd even hoped you could before," voice number one responded.

John's blood ran cold and the throbbing surging through his body increased. He heard a shot – not unlike a Wraith stunner – and heard the sound of someone hitting the ground.

Beckett's hand tumbled into the very edge of his vision. But before he could even think of doing anything to help him, there was another sound, another shot, even more pain. Darkness threatened.

Like it or not, he knew luck could run out.

Darkness won.

--

Elizabeth studied the man in front of her. Rodney looked anxious, fidgety, and she knew he must be feeling the pressure. She knew he wanted to find John and Carson just as much as she did.

"You're not sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Rodney snipped. "It's different. Stuns, yes, but it could leave brain damage for all we know. Give me a few people that are willing to be shot at with a piece of Wraith technology and I could tell you exactly what makes it different."

"Rodney," she cautioned. There was no way she be asking for volunteers even if there were people that were willing. She let out a small sigh. "We'll find them."

"Will we? Because it's so very easy to run right back to planet full of people welding Wraith guns and scoop them right up."

She ignored his abrasiveness. She long grown used to it and knew it was only a further testament to how on edge he was. "You're been working on this for hours. When did you last sleep? Or eat for that matter?" Low blood sugar always made Rodney testy.

"I don't need sleep. And I did eat, thank you very much."

"A power bar in your lab doesn't count," she told him, hoping her sarcastic tone would not go unnoticed. It didn't. Good, though she knew that they didn't really have the time to press the matter any further. "Lt. Ford is putting together a team with Bates and Teyla to head back to the planet. He's requested you be on it."

Any other time she might have grinned at the look of surprise that came across Rodney's face. "Ah, he did?"

She nodded. "We'll be taking full precautions this time. I'm not giving up, Rodney. And I don't think you should be either. Now, is the weapon we recovered useable?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Good. It could be just what we need."

--


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: As always, thank you for the kind reviews. All will be revealed soon, I promise, and rescue, well, it's coming. :)  
**

* * *

Carson was scared. Not uneasy, not mildly disturbed, but scared. 

And he had not an inkling why.

Unlike his previous awakening, his mind wasn't a complete blank; he recalled the fact that he and Major Sheppard had been in a cell of some sort. It was dark, a bit cold, and neither one of them could remember heading off world, despite the fact that there wasn't a doubt that they had.

His joints ached, a dull pain not unlike the type he'd expect during a bad bout of the flu. He wasn't nauseous, thank goodness, but that was only a small victory.

He was also alone.

He was in a modest room, lying across a cot, that while not uncomfortable, was clean and covered with a gray blanket. A thin pillow was under his head and he blinked up at a dingy white ceiling covered with cracks and obvious water stains. Still, it was a step up from his last accommodations.

Last accommodations. That thought once again remind him of Sheppard's absence. They'd been stunned – again and…

Wait. Again?

He'd been stunned twice? He could only clearly recall the one time. Had their been a second? Or a first, for that matter?

Carson bolted up, ignoring the sharp stab of pain that ran from his head to his toes.

Something was happening. He surveyed the rest of the room, noting the door in the corner. He blinked at its presence, as if it was the key to clearing his blurry mind.

He'd obviously gone off world with Major Sheppard, which was certainly a surprise to him, since he despised the Stargate. The fact that his one experience helping another planet resulted in the disaster that was Hoff did not help things. The best way to move past Hoff was to try and never get himself involved in a situation like it again.

Yet, somehow, in the back of his mind, he feared he had.

No, that wasn't right. He frowned. Why wasn't it right?

He shifted, moving his legs slowly around so that they touched the floor. A slight wave of vertigo hit him, but he braced his hands on the cot and took a couple of deep breaths and it quickly abated. He noticed his was still wearing his uniform jacket and ran his fingers over it, nervously.

That's when he found it.

It, of course, only raised many more questions, but Carson would take what he could get at this point. "It" was an empty vial. Well, empty was accurate. It was nearly empty and if Carson tilted it in the light he could see the traces of a reddish liquid left behind.

Hoff immediately came to mind.

No, not Hoff. It was a Wraith enzyme, something that had made the person taking it stronger, easier to feed upon.

Carson nearly dropped the vial when it came crashing back.

Loren, the mysterious woman who did not like his diagnosis, the near riot when he claimed the Wraith were not gods.

His breath hitched and a sudden chill cursed through his body. He had to get out of here. He needed to find Major Sheppard and they both needed to go back to Atlantis, far, far from this place.

In an instant, he was up and tripping on his own feet. Dizziness threatened to take hold, but he didn't care. He couldn't stay here. These people were mad. These people had some sort of deal with the Wraith. They had to. He had to warn Atlantis.

His knees buckled a few feet short of the door. He closed his eyes to regain his balance, reaching out as far he could to grasp the handle. He said a silent prayer when his hand met rounded metal.

It didn't budge. Locked.

Carson opened his eyes and contemplated his next move.

His next move didn't matter when the door swung open.

--

Rodney eyes the gun in Bates' hands. They had gone all out, indeed. Elizabeth was taking no changes.

Not that he was about to argue with that, mind you. The trip through the gate was uneventful. Rodney was surprised. For some reason, he expected to be heading straight into a Wraith ambush, but all he saw was a breeze blowing through the trees.

"They aren't guarding the gate," Ford commented.

"They are not," Teyla agreed. "But something is not right."

"Maybe they didn't expect us to come back," Bates' responded, eyes scanning and gun raised.

"Perhaps." Teyla sounded anything but sure and Rodney did not like her uncertainty. He stayed close to her, as she was the one wielding the new unidentified weapon.

She shook her head. "This is unlike the Wraith. They surely know who we are. No, they are waiting."

"Wonderful," Rodney muttered. "So what do we do? Twiddle our thumbs until we fall into their trap? We can't go to the back to the village."

"That's where Sheppard and Beckett are. Of course we're going back," Ford said. "What did you think we came for?"

"I know we came back for Sheppard and Beckett," Rodney snipped. "But I didn't think that being fed upon by a Wraith was part of the plan."

Ford shot him a look, and Rodney ignored it. "Are even sure the Wraith are even here?" Bates asked. "None of you actually saw one, right?"

"No," Ford admitted.

"Then maybe they just get their hands on some Wraith technology."

Rodney snorted. "Like that is any better."

"McKay," Ford hissed. "You're not helping."

"The Wraith are here." Teyla had inched ahead of the group and Rodney scrambled closer to her. Ford stared at him.

"She has the Wraith weapon," he explained. Ford and Bates exchanged a look. "What?"

Teyla frowned. "I am not sure, but…" She stopped. "I fear Major Sheppard and Dr. Beckett are in great danger."

This was going nowhere. Rodney was getting impatient; at least at the lab he could trying to discover more about their mystery weapon. Here, he felt useless, and he hated feeling useless. "What gave you that clue? The fact that they were, oh I don't know, kidnapped!"

Three sets of eyes narrowed at him. He sighed. "This is getting us nowhere."

Ford looked at Teyla. "Thoughts?"

"We need to find Major Sheppard and Dr. Beckett. Soon. We cannot hesitate."

"Now there's a plan I like." Bates charged ahead. Ford and Teyla quickly followed. Rodney took one last look back towards the gate, found his gun and gripped it as hard as he could, and walked.

--

It was her.

Carson knew it the moment the door swung open. The mysterious sister of Loren. He tried to pull up a name, but drew a blank. Perhaps she had never given him one.

"I'm sorry" tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it. "I told you, I can't help him."

"No, you can not," she replied. "Loren is dead. No one can help him any longer." Her tone was even, not reveling any emotion. "But you will help us."

Carson stumbled again, and this time he could not stop himself from falling. Luckily the woman reached out and caught him, lowered him gently to the floor. He looked up at her, and she gave him a smile that sent yet another again chill down his spine.

"Where's Major Sheppard?" he asked.

"Major Sheppard will be doing us a great service. He will please the gods immensely, I know it. And with you, we will be given good favor for many years."

Carson's mouth went dry. His mind flashed back to Loren, dying from the stress of a Wraith feeding.

Or feedings.

He was scared.

He pulled himself away from her, crawling across the ground. But the pain in his body flared and found himself going nowhere.

"Dr. Beckett, you can help us. You will help us. Loren will not die in vain."

Her voice was harsh, her eyes cold. Behind her Carson saw two men, welding more weapons. He scrambled to get up, but he wasn't fast enough. He was dizzy, so dizzy that the room had began to spin and the nausea he been avoiding came, full force.

He was vaguely aware of throwing up, then being hauled to his feet before his eyes closed and he had no choice but to surrender to the dark.


End file.
